


contact

by fluffysfics



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Spyfall, Telepathic Sex, but also Actual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/pseuds/fluffysfics
Summary: On a whim, the Doctor reaches out telepathically, and finds her best enemy miraculously returned from an alternate dimension.Of course, he’s got a scheme up his sleeve, but she’s the Doctor. She always wins.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 328





	contact

“...Contact.”

“ _Contact_.”

“You’re not dead, then.”

“You wouldn’t want me to be dead, Doctor. But no, I’m not.”

“How?”

“I escaped.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the answer you’re going to get.”

“Stubborn as ever, Master.”

“Come find me.”

The contact broke, and the Doctor was left wondering why she’d even thought it was a good idea to reach out for the Master. She couldn’t sit and self-flagellate for very long, though, because a moment later, her phone pinged. A text. From O. 

She really needed to change his contact name. 

Resigning herself to a long evening (or perhaps morning, or night) of bickering with the Master, the Doctor plugged her phone into the TARDIS and waited for her to compute his location. Co-ordinates pinged up on the screen a few seconds later, and she squinted at them. If she remembered correctly, that was... Oh, she hated the Master. 

She sent the TARDIS flying off towards his co-ordinates, parking a little way away just in case he happened to be trying anything funny again. From the moment she stepped outside, the throb of bass music vibrated through her, punctuating every first and third beat of her hearts. Of course the Master would ask to meet in the universe’s largest nightclub, just to irritate her. She was burning with questions about Gallifrey; questions more than anger, honestly, but anger wasn’t off the table entirely yet- but she wouldn’t even be able to hear herself think inside this place. 

Wiping the scowl off her face in favour of a pleasant smile, she bounced up to the front of the club, flashing her psychic paper at the bodyguards. She definitely wasn’t standing in line for three hours just to gain access to this torture. 

“Good evening, lovely to meet you! I’m the Doctor, I’m here to inspect your—“

“Come with us.” 

She blinked, surprised that her lie had worked so fast. Still, the Doctor wasn’t going to complain, so she followed two presumably very lovely, rather intimidatingly large gentlemen into the building. 

The blaring music was infinitely worse inside than out, combined with a sudden punch of _heat_ that made the Doctor wince. Somewhere in this mess was the Master, but how to find him? She stood up on tiptoes, peering across the dance floor, but it was massive- she couldn’t sense the Master in a place like this, let alone see him. 

Then, she realised that the two bouncers were still waiting for her to follow them. The Doctor flashed an apologetic smile, and let them lead the way up a long, spiralling flight of stairs tucked away behind a chain in the very corner of the room. They stopped at the top of the stairs, each motioning towards a black door at the end of a short corridor. Okay, this was...odd. Frowning, she headed towards the door, one hand slipping into her pocket to grip her sonic screwdriver. 

She pushed open the door, and let it click shut smoothly behind her. The throbbing music instantly faded; this room had some serious soundproofing. The Doctor looked around, and in an instant, the caution on her face changed to a look that communicated pure, unadulterated ‘are you kidding me’. 

The Master was lounging on a red velvet couch, dressed in a suit so well-fitted that he looked like he was about to go and seduce a particularly ditzy 1920s noblewoman. _I’m the noblewoman_ , the Doctor thought to herself. 

“ _What_ are you doing?” She folded her arms, unimpressed. 

“Waiting for you. I built you a whole nightclub, Doctor, you could show me a little appreciation...” He smirked at her, and she glowered right back. 

“You built this place? It’s been around for centuries.”

“You may remember our last meeting, where you _stranded_ me in a _different dimension_. I don’t have my TARDIS. I’ve been here, very bored, for a very long time, Doctor. I had to do _something_ whilst I was waiting until I’d cooled off enough to invite you over for a chat.”

“Cooled off? _Cooled off_?” The Doctor felt rage bubbling up inside of her; anger was back on the table, apparently. “You burned our home to the ground. I saw it. Is there anyone left alive? Anyone? I finally found Gallifrey, finally visited it _once_ , and then you BURNED it. And you have the nerve to tell me that _you_ needed to cool off?” Without realising it, she’d gotten closer. She was barely a foot from his damned velvet couch now, shaking with fury. And he was still sat there, smiling at her. 

“Seems to me like you might be the one in need of cooling off right now, Doctor,” he drawled. 

She slapped him. 

Hard. 

Hard enough to knock his smug body off of that couch and onto the floor.

The Master lay there for a moment, lifting a hand to touch the side of his face. Then, he laughed. 

“I like this version of you. She’s quite the firecracker...”

The Doctor was a pacifist. She hated violence, hated guns, hated killing. Throughout all of her long lives, she’d endeavoured to stick to her morals, find a peaceful solution to every problem she encountered. 

Absolutely none of that was enough to stop her from _falling_ on top of the Master, and decking him right in the face with the hardest punch she could muster. 

He howled with laughter, looking up at her with eyes wild with something...something manic. “Do it again, Doctor,” he said. His lips were bloody; she’d split one of them with her punch. “Hit me again. I want to see you lose it...”

She lifted her fist again, and saw his face flash with pure glee. Anger coursed through her- she brought the fist down, then stopped, just inches away from the Master’s face. No. This was what he wanted. She couldn’t give in. 

Forcing herself to calm down, the Doctor gripped the front of the Master’s shirt and leaned down towards him. “What did the founders of Gallifrey do that was so awful? What’s the Timeless Child? Why do I- why do I know that name?” 

The Master grabbed a fistful of her hair, and dragged her down into a kiss. Shock, more than anything, stopped the Doctor from pulling away immediately- it was only when the taste of blood entered her mouth that she gathered her wits about her and shoved him away. 

“Come now, Doctor, don’t be a prude. You’re the one straddling me...what’s a man to do other than assume that you’re interested?” 

“Answer my questions,” she said, coldly. 

“No,” he said, just as coldly. Then, his face brightened. “How about, I tell you what I’m doing here?”

“Building a nightclub to annoy me, apparently,” the Doctor snapped. 

“Ah, now, that’s just the thing. This nightclub is no ordinary nightclub. I paid off my builders rather handsomely to keep quiet about this- well, no, actually I just killed them all after they finished building. But anyway! I requested that they wire explosives under the floor of this whole place. The entire building is rigged to blow when I give the order, unless you give me your TARDIS.”

“There are thousands of people in here. They’ll all die.”

“You’d better give me your TARDIS, then, hadn’t you?” 

The Doctor _seethed_. She’d been so damn preoccupied with her desperation to ask the Master about Gallifrey. She hadn’t thought to scan the building for traps. 

“I’m not giving you my TARDIS.”

“Well, then.” The Master pushed her off, hard enough for her to smack her elbow on the floor. He strode to a desk in the corner of the room, picking up a small black device. 

“No!” The Doctor rushed at him- she grabbed his wrist, slamming it back against the wall so that the device clattered to the floor. “No. I’m not letting you do this.”

“My dear Doctor, do you really think you have a choice? I’m not so stupid as to think you wouldn’t fight me, which is why the bombs are voice activated. Say the right phrase, and off they go. Can’t stop me from _talking_ , now, can you?” 

She gritted her teeth. “Please,” she said, avoiding his gaze. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Doctor. Seventy-seven years living through hell on Earth, and centuries owning a sleazy nightclub on this backwater planet...you _owe_ me.” 

She was seething with the unfairness of this. He‘d burned their home and left her with a million questions, he’d tried to kill her friends, he’d tried to kill _her_ \- but since when had the Master ever played fair?

“Please,” the Doctor said again, letting go of his wrist and slowly sinking down to her knees. “Master.” This time she met his eyes, saw the flare of victory in them. 

“Well, that’s certainly _nice_ , but that doesn’t make up for the fact that you LEFT me!” His rage burst, and the Doctor flinched; she couldn’t help it. “You LEFT me, _twice_ , and you get to run off with your silly little human friends without a care in the world. I should kill them. I should kill them in FRONT of you and make you WATCH.” He was shouting, manic, and the Doctor had seen this many times before. Every time, she felt his pain in her hearts, and every time, she hated herself for it. 

“I left you, and you burned Gallifrey.” She was still on her knees, still meeting his gaze as evenly as she could. “We make quite a pair.”

The Master surged forward, grabbing her hair again and pulling her head back. He bent low over her, and she could feel his breaths coming fast and hard against her face. There was blood on his teeth as well as his lip. 

“You still haven’t convinced me, you know. I could blow up this whole building any time I wanted. Beg me not to, Doctor. Beg me, or better yet, give me your precious TARDIS.”

“I’m not going to beg.” 

The Master’s other hand shot up, wrapping hard around her throat. The Doctor found herself suddenly very glad for her respiratory bypass system. 

“Come now, Doctor, you look so pretty on your knees. Why don’t you just do as I ask?”

“Because I can do this.” She snapped her arm up, grabbing the Master’s wrist and using his own weight against him to hurl him to the floor. She kept him pinned, but that was it; no more punching, no more anger. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” she said. “No bombs needed. One trip in my TARDIS, that’s all. I’ll even take you to Gallifrey to steal yourself a new one, if you didn’t burn all the TARDISes, too.” 

“Why do you always have to be so...so _sanctimonious_?” The Master’s face twisted in a scowl, but his heart wasn’t in it. The Doctor could tell- he’d never been very good at disguising his true emotions. 

“Promise not to blow this place up, and I’ll take you home, Koschei. I’ll take you anywhere you want.” Her voice was soft. 

“Getting sentimental, Theta?” The Master’s scowl had faded. The bite was gone from his tone, too, and now he was just looking up at her with something like...like longing. 

“Promise me,” she said again. “‘Everything you do is to get my attention’? No more grandstanding needed. You’ve got it.” 

This time, when the Master reached up and dragged her down into a kiss, the Doctor didn’t pull away. She debated it for a moment, but oh...she’d missed this, and it had been _so_ long. She tried to be gentle at first- soft, slow kisses- but the Master was _hungry_ and she let him push in, deepen the kiss, explore every inch of her that he could like this. 

She closed her eyes, and not five seconds later she felt the Master’s mind brush against her barriers. It was dangerous to lower them, he could access anything when she was this unguarded...and yet, the Doctor still chose to let him in. She craved the closeness that only two Time Lords could achieve. 

His mind pushed into hers in a rush, and she allowed herself to fall deep into his, too. Such a familiar, welcoming place- a mindscape the Doctor had entered so many times over the years, but not...like this, for a long while. She could feel herself kissing the Master, and she could feel what it felt like from his perspective, too. It was a heady feeling, and one that she fully intended- oh, she _needed_ \- to lose herself in. 

The Doctor bent lower, wanting to feel the Master’s heartbeats. Slightly out of sync with her own, they formed a frenetic eight-beat, driving them both onwards, desperate for _more_. She rolled her hips, feeling a bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. Not much had changed since the last time he was a man, then; still got turned on by a woman getting rough with him. 

“Theta,” she heard him say, and she couldn’t tell if it was out loud or just in their heads. “Get your ridiculous clothes off before I rip them off you.” 

“I like these clothes,” she said, not sounding too huffy about it, really. She was far too turned on for that. 

“Get them off anyway.” 

The Doctor broke their kiss, opening her eyes to look down at the Master. He was flushed already, looking back up at her with a gaze that was almost predatory. Through their mental link, she felt almost like she was spinning, seeing him seeing her through his eyes, and down onwards into infinity. She could have spiralled like that forever, but then the Master reached up, tugging on her suspenders so hard that they snapped off. He wasn’t kidding about ripping her clothes, then. 

Not wanting to risk any more damage, she shrugged off her coat and pulled her shirt up, tossing it to the other side of the room. And not to let this get one-sided, she reached down, ridding the Master of his jacket and bowtie and then tearing at the buttons of his shirt with uncharacteristic roughness. Maybe that was a consequence of having him in her head; maybe she was just getting too damn desperate to wait. 

The Master sat up, then, and the Doctor didn’t bother to stop him; she fell right back into kissing, losing herself in the feeling. His mind was warm, glowing, pressed completely and utterly against her own; every thought, every desire, for now, was hers just as much as it was his. It was intoxicating, and she could almost cry from how deeply she’d _missed_ this. 

“Trousers,” she mumbled, lifting herself off the Master’s lap just enough to remove them, and her underwear along with them. He worked on his own, wriggling then down just enough to free his arousal. The Doctor would insist he took them off entirely, but she was far too caught up in this. 

Her hands dug into his shoulders, blunt nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin that she could feel stinging on her own back, too. The Master’s hands hadn’t once stopped wandering; this regeneration never stopped moving, and that seemed to extend to sex- he was exploring her chest, her sides, tracing patterns and scratching down her back. The Doctor lifted herself up, positioning herself carefully before sinking down onto him. This regeneration’s first time, and it was _definitely_ harder to handle in this body, but she was so caught up in...in _everything_ , that it barely even mattered. 

For a minute, she just let them sit- the mental connection between them was glowing, throbbing, swirling- she could lose herself in it, and she knew the Master felt just the same. 

“Koschei...” His name echoed around both of their minds, and the Doctor felt his hands still, come to rest on her waist. She started to move then, using her grip on his shoulders to rock against him, push herself up and down. 

It felt so different like this, in a multitude of ways. She’d not had this particular anatomy before, she hadn’t had sex whilst connected to someone else like this since- well, the last time she’d been with the Master, so many, many years ago now. The Doctor started to move faster, ignoring the way it made her muscles burn- the feelings shooting up her spine, bleeding through her mind, were more than worth the ache she’d have later. 

She could feel the Master inside of her, and she could feel herself around him, the different types of pleasure looping around almost infinitely. Memories flooded their connection- muffling each other’s desperate noises on a creaky bed in the Academy on Gallifrey, sneaking down into ancient crypts and defiling doubtless very important graves with their actions. 

She was so caught up in memories, half-remembered old pleasure and fully realised _new_ pleasure, that her orgasm took her completely by surprise. The Doctor felt her body tense up, nails definitely cutting into the Master’s skin- not that he’d ever minded a little pain- and the pleasure created in a series of full-body, dizzying waves. 

Of course, the Master felt it too, and she felt him jerk his hips up into her one more time, followed by the heat of his release. The sensation of it rolled back around to her, the tighter, sharper pleasure of climax that she’d known from all her past regenerations. 

“Koschei...” The Doctor let out a shaky breath, resting her head against his shoulder. He was breathing hard, as was she. It had been so long, and yet they’d fallen together so easily... Still, she could feel his every thought, that intense heat cooling to a lazy, easy sunshine warmth. 

“Theta.” A few beats, and then a hand lifted to curl into her hair. Stroking, rather than grabbing, soothing the harsh pain he’d inflicted on her scalp earlier. “I’m...” Another pause. She didn’t dare breathe. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” It was the truth. She’d done unforgivable things, as had he. And yet, right now, she felt inclined to forgive him. To try, at least. To seek understanding and not lash out again. 

They rested there for what could have been two minutes, could have been an hour, just drifting in the comfort of each other’s minds. The Doctor had been craving an escape, and whilst the Master was the last person she expected to find it in right now, here he was. 

It was only when she became acutely aware of a cramp in her leg that the Doctor reluctantly severed their connection, sighing and pushing herself to her feet. She felt shaky, but she was still very much naked, so she started to pad around the room and pull her clothes back on. The Master sat and watched for a minute, then stood up to join her in re-dressing himself. 

“You ruined my shirt,” he commented. 

“You killed my suspenders, so we’re even.” She slung her coat back on, and smoothed down her hair. “Did you want to take me up on that lift out of here?”

The Master hesitated, his mouth opening, and then closing again. He nodded. Baby steps it was, then. Accepting a lift was good, even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it verbally. 

She could bring up Gallifrey now, while he was still soft, and make him tell her about the Timeless Child. She could make him apologise for burning the planet, make him scour the universe for any trace of Time Lords who’d escaped his rage. 

She did none of those things. Instead, the Doctor reached out and took the Master’s hand, and led him out- ruined shirt and all- to her TARDIS. She’d take him wherever he wanted to go, as promised. And then, she’d fly back to Earth, to her friends, and continue her adventures in the knowledge that the Master was out there somewhere, and she would look forward to whenever the universe decided to throw them together again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself except that I really love these two’s dynamic,,
> 
> also- Theta and Koschei are their nicknames from the Academy on Gallifrey if you didn’t know!


End file.
